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My heart fluttered, convinced I’d been caught. Shit. He knew I was looking.
“Gray…” he trailed, voice barely a whisper.
“Uh… yeah?” I replied weakly. Maybe I could play it off, right?
Just as I steeled myself to resist my own dumb thoughts, Razai moved closer. And for the life of me, I didn’t have the strength to move.
Or the desire.
What the hell is my problem? And what the hell is he doing?
He lifted a hand and reached toward my cheek. Softly. Slowly. Like he was trying to tame a wild animal with one caress. The light bloomed behind him, leaving his expression unreadable in the dark.
My body hummed and buzzed with… with… everything. Electricity. Fire. The most violent storms. I waited, breathless.
The worst part? I couldn’t find the will to move back anymore. As his fingers stretched out, reaching to touch or hold, I just stayed still.
This is pathetic.
He stroked my hair right above the ear, sending shivers down my neck. His thumb came next, pinching, pulling—and then, nothing.
He pulled away.
“This’ll do,” he said, holding up my bobby pin.
I stared at it, confused. Why had he taken that out?
Razai bit the tip and pulled, ripping the wax off, and then wiggled the metal edge into the lock.
Oh. Duh.
Now I felt like a complete moron. I had to get a grip. Let off some steam and pent-up energy. Maybe I should go out and get laid. Buy some new sex toys and beat off.
Anything at all, as long as I stopped reacting to irritating, arrogant archangels.
Thirty seconds of silence later, the drawer slid open. Razai held his hands out like a showman after a stunt. “Well? Am I earning my keep?”
“Surprisingly, yes,” I admitted, shuffling closer to get a better look. Now wasn’t the time for distractions. A typical filing drawer held the usual type of shit, but now was the time to be methodical. I worked through each section and folder, examining the papers inside with painstaking tedium.
After several minutes of this, Razai said, “You really are a different breed, Detective. You know that?”
“What do you mean?” I asked distantly. Why did he have an entire folder for food expenses? Was that an actual tax write-off for a professor?
“I’ve watched five investigators come and go in this case, and none of them have even considered breaking into a professor’s office and sifting through their expense reports.”
“Don’t compliment me until I’ve found something worth finding.” The next folder held negative reports on students, which could be interesting if any of the victims were in this list. But after a quick glance, no names stood out.
A sudden urge to hurry hit me. I frowned, unused to this sensation. It almost felt like intuition magic… but not quite.
Was my paranoia throwing me off? Or had I developed some sixth sense?
Either way, I was listening. I sped up, searching, searching. The last file in the cabinet was stuck, and fear shot through me as the need to hurry heightened. Finally, I yanked it open to reveal an empty space.
That is, until something small caught my eye.
I pulled it out and shut the drawer. “Lock it. Quickly, lock it.”
Razai heard my insistence and finished in three seconds flat.
